


'Cause I Don't Do Too Well On My Own (I'm Not The Desperate Type)

by Keelthekat



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Human Castiel, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-01
Updated: 2017-01-01
Packaged: 2018-09-13 20:48:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9141613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Keelthekat/pseuds/Keelthekat
Summary: Dean is drinking away his grief. A stranger helps him.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfiction so please be nice! Any feedback is wildly appreciated and I hope you like it.

Dean had always liked Thursdays. They were full of happy memories: his baby brother being born, learning to make fairy cakes with his mother after school and getting his first car from his dad. He also met Cas on a Thursday. He didn’t know it then but this one man make his life do a 180 degree turn for the better.

 He remembers clearly the month before was full of grief and darkness and drink after drink after drink. Nobody ever spoke to him, they just left him there to be tortured silently; they didn’t want to know the demons that lurked beneath his skin. The never-ending tunnel of regret and self-deprecation – maybe if he had just fought a little harder, if he had just done his research or if he had just got a good night’s sleep for once. it wouldn’t have happened. But it did.

Then Cas came, a simple man who turned into Dean’s saviour and lifted him towards the light. This particular Thursday he was reminiscing on how his mother’s delicate hands guided his brother’s into forming the smooth curves of letters. Although Sam was only 1, he was developing fast and Dean knew he would grow to be a great academic one day. His mother also recognised it and encouraged him. If only little Sammy had the chance.

Dean remembered being taken from his thoughts abruptly as a gentle hand was place on his shoulder and a rich voice said, with such care and compassion, “Are you alright?”

These three words lifted Dean from the dark pits of his mind as now he knew that maybe someone actually cared. As he revelled in this new feeling of hope, he noticed that a pair of striking blue eyes looked at him expectantly. He knew those eyes were judging him and not wanting to go back to his own personal hell, he desperately said, “Please don’t go!”

“I won’t,” came the firm reply.

Once promised that Cas wouldn’t leave, they started talking. Dean found that he had many similarities in personality, interest and hobbies. He found that, like him, Cas enjoyed mechanics and also had an interest in mythology and in fact had a degree in World Cultural and Religious Beliefs. They agreed to meet up the next day, then the next, then the next. They soon became close friends and Dean found some of Cas’ weird hobbies, such as beekeeping, and some that just proved Dean’s theory that Cas was an angel, such as helping at orphanages and giving up his wage to those who needed it more.

As the years went by, their friendship blossomed and they became attached at the hip – their newfound friends often joked about how they would never see one without the other and theorised on how their friendship could be something more. Cas put his head down and blushed whilst Dean quickly pushed away the tales or changed the topic whenever these sorts of discussions came up.

They didn’t tell each other of their feelings until New Year’s Day five years after they met. Cas was cosied up to Dean’s side, watching the countdown on the television. They had eaten all the snacks they prepared and were waiting for the ball to drop. As the timer hit zero and the magnificent fireworks display started, Dean, in a moment of desperation, grabbed Cas by the lapels of his worn trench coat, that he refused to take off, and kissed him. Realising what he had done and that he had ruined their friendship, Dean choked, “Please don’t go!”

“I won’t,” came the whispered reply, “I love you too much to let you go.”

This was one Dean’s favourite Thursdays.

Their newfound relationship was unstable at first as it was hard transitioning from friendship to a serious relationship but they found their way. This led up to Dean’s all-time favourite Thursday – the day Cas proposed to him. Although Dean had insisted to not go overboard on rings as he knew he would probably lose it, Cas had located the wedding ring his mother had sold after his father had died and bought it for quite a hefty sum. Dean had a fit when he first found out the price it was but soon realised that it was of great sentimental value to Cas and it was amazed by the effort he had gone to locate it. He didn’t mind much after that.

With the money that they had saved through the years, they planned a wedding. It was to be on a Thursday afternoon in late spring and on the anniversary of when they first met. The venue was a beautiful garden pavilion that had a backdrop of a golden beach, the glistening ocean spreading over the horizon and the sun shining bright from the heavens. They had bought matching turquoise ties and a suit each. Dean expected it to be the best Thursday of his life.

Three days before Cas fell ill. At first it was just a mild cough but then it progressed into a chest infection and on the eve before their wedding day, he had to use a respirator to breath. Through this Dean held his hand and talked to him. He talked and talked about their good memories together and how he would get through this because ‘the Cas I know can get through anything’ although then doctors kept telling him the chances of his soon-to-be-husband’s survival were slim.

It came to a climax on the Thursday afternoon of their wedding day. Cas’ condition had deteriorated rapidly overnight and it was just a matter of time before it happened. Dean stopped midway through his retelling of how they met; how he had felt so low and Cas was the one that saved him from worse and that he had to survive for him; when Cas’ heartbeat monitor stopped beeping. After that there was a flurry of nurses and doctors rushing into the room and clawing him away whilst they tried to resuscitate him.

All Dean could do was watch and slip back into himself as he felt his demons that Cas had banished on that Thursday all those years ago. He could feel himself drowning in sorrow as he sank to his knees. He needed his angel, his Angel of Thursday, and he whispered to Cas, “Please don’t go!”

He got no reply.

Dean had always liked Thursdays but now he absolutely despised them.

**Author's Note:**

> The title is from Fall Out Boy's song '7 Minutes in Heaven (Atavan Halen)'.  
> I was listening to 'Famous Last Words' by My Chemical Romance when I got the idea for this fic so I'm sorry.


End file.
